


I Can Watch And Not Take Part

by alexiel_neesan



Category: DCU
Genre: Disturbing implications, Fever Dreams, Gen, Illnesses, M/M, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexiel_neesan/pseuds/alexiel_neesan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Fever dream. Or is it?</em>
<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Watch And Not Take Part

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Hope You Squeal Better."

Tim wheezed in, wheezed out, his breath rattling in his chest. The nothing behind his lids was making strange shapes, electricity and atoms and chemistry diagrams on acid. A fever spike, probably.

“You really do look like shit, Replacement.”

A fever spike and its accompanying hallucinations, apparently. Tim shivered –it was hard to think that there had been a point he hadn’t continuously shivered– and opened his eyes. _Bad brain,_ thought Tim. _You’re late on the current updates._ Jason was wearing a leather jacket, no visible weapon, no mask or helmet in sight, his hair cut too short, black but for one place, one lock in the front, baring his forehead. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets, looking down at Tim.

Tim blinked then let his eyelids drop. Even keeping his eyes open was exhausting.

“What, no comeback? I’m hurt.”

Tim coughed wetly, tried to breath more deeply, the oxygen hissing softly in the tubes. Hallucination. Because, really, there was no way that Jason was here in the manor. He was still in Blackgate, after all, no? Still in Blackgate and still a redhead and Dick and Alfred and Damian were in the next rooms over and Bruce was coming back almost every morning or night or whenever it actually was and there was enough security from the grounds to here that no-one could come in uninvited–

“You’re one hell of an overachiever. I thought Big Bad Bat had it bad, but you’re certainly taking the fucking cake. ‘Takes a special kind of dedication to catch all this shit and not slowing down until you’re ready to keel over.”

So hallucination-Jason was channelling Dick, only with a much dirtier mouth. Tim idly wondered when the beating would begin. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his meetings with Jason, real or hallucinated. Because, yes, it wasn’t the first time his brain decided on using Jason Todd as a mouthpiece. Probably not the last, either.

He opened an eye. Jason was still there, looking at the pig Kon had brought earlier... earlier when?... He hadn’t felt this physically bad since the Clench.

Jason stepped closer, the footsteps barely audible. Right, immediate concern. Fever. Hallucination. He couldn’t breathe enough. And Jason picked the pig up. Were hallucinations brought on by fever even supposed to be able to do that? Tim had a file, a mental one, somewhere, about physiological effects of many different type of circumstances and he just knew that there was something about fever, about hallucinations, somewhere. He just couldn’t access it.

“Cute pig. Dreadful sense of humor, but cute. Doesn’t strike me as a Dick present. ‘loves you too much for that, doesn’t he?”

He was so tired. Jason put the pig back down, pressing it down to the table, hitting the hidden button. The tiny squeals echoed in the quiet beeps of the machines behind Tim. It sounded sinister.

“I wonder if you can squeal like that... you were rather silent, the last times. Bet I can find a way to make you scream.”

And Jason smiled, white white in the dark, stalking closer. The oxygen whooshed quietly in and out, in and out, not enough. Jason put his hand –warm, but cool against Tim’s feverish skin, and calloused and scarred– on his neck, barely brushing the skin, barely brushing the scar he had left there.

“There are easier ways to kill yourself, y’know...”

Jason didn’t press down, didn’t push, didn’t cut his air. Hallucination, after all. Tim’s breathing slowed all the same.

Tim wanted to feel the warmth pressing into his skin. He wanted to feel those fingers digging into the scar they had left there. He wanted to push against that hand until his vision turned black. He was allowed to. It wasn’t real.

“You wouldn’t even fight it, would you? Are you naturally this masochistic or is this a special skill they teach kids this days?”

Tim closed his eyes, once again. The machinery didn’t register any change in his heartbeat or weak breathing patterns. He could feel Jason’s hand. He had been able to feel Jason’s teeth sinking into his neck, once –able to imagine it and the blood flowing down so hot it burned–

Footsteps and raised voices and laughter sounded behind the door, further away, down the corridor. The real world was calling again, far away and too close. Tim released a shuddering breath. It turned into a hacking cough, shacking everything inside, shacking his lungs inside out.

At some point, before he stopped coughing, the hand wasn’t on his neck anymore. Tim missed its imaginary presence. The noises, behind the door, moved closer.

“You’re a fucking mess. Seeing who this is coming from, it’s saying a lot, don’t you think?”

Tim didn’t answer this time either.

His eyes flew open at the wet, open-mouthed kiss.

“Now be good and get back to your feet. I’m getting bored out there and no-one wants that.”

 _How... embarrassing_. Those kinds of fantasies had been... a long time ago. It was at least a nice change from the beatings.

The next time Tim blinked and kept his eyes open long enough, the hallucination of Jason wasn’t there anymore. He closed his eyes again and let sleep -hopefully without further hallucinations– take him.

-

Dick carefully opened the door to Tim’s room, passing only his head inside. The machines made exactly the same noise as usual, the curtains were drawn, Kon’s pig was on the table. He didn’t went further in –Tim seemed to be asleep. The younger man looked like hell, even in just the light from the corridor bathing his face.

“Master Dick?”

Dick straightened and closed the door softly, facing Alfred.

“I could’ve swore– has Kon came back? I thought I heard another voice in Tim’s room.”

Alfred frowned slightly.

“To the best of my knowledge, no one has been in Master Tim’s room today aside from you this morning and me.”

/end


End file.
